


The King's Passion

by AryaxJaqen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College, F/M, Jaqarya, Mild Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 00:18:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16074407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaxJaqen/pseuds/AryaxJaqen
Summary: Modern AU. Arya is in college. She is 19 here, Jaqen is 28.





	The King's Passion

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Patricia, who's always so supportive of me. Thank you, dear ! <3  
> Hopefully you will enjoy this little fic !  
> P.S. I own nothing. Jaqen and Arya belong to George Martin.

Arya Stark decided to start the day visiting professor H'ghar. This time she didn't even need an excuse, he said they could expect their papers returned this week. He didn't say it would happen on Monday morning but it didn't hurt to ask.

No one answered when she knocked on the door but she turned the knob and went in anyway.

His office was a roomy but cozy place with lots of books, a huge oak desk in the center and a couple of old comfy armchairs in front of it. A leather sofa between the door and the fireplace gave the room a homely look. Arya loved it here, it felt like home.

His desk was neatly organized, with a laptop and other things but what drew her attention was a large book with a colorful illustration on the cover. Arya reached for it. This could be the theme of their next class ! She gasped when she read the title :

_Erotic Art of Essos_

The book was visually stunning, with hundreds of beautiful illustrations printed on fine glossy paper. Each page presented a picture of a person or persons engaged in sexual activity, be it pleasuring themselves or making love. Many of these pictures were photographs, others were fine line drawings and paintings. Arya chewed on her lower lip, feeling a blush spreading on her cheeks. It seemed that the temperature in the room raised a couple of degrees.

The women in these pictures were exposing themselves to the men in ways unimaginable. And the men...the men were sucking on them, licking, probing, kissing. Their members were swollen and ready, their skin seemed like velvet.

Arya flipped a couple of pages forward, oh there was so much to see and so little time ! She got to the middle of the book and saw an ancient painting spread across two pages. _The King's Passion or the Art of Worship_ she read. A man was kissing the breasts of his lover, his manhood playing at her entrance about to push inside, his fingers were toying with her petals. The girl's delicate features bore an expression of divine ecstasy.

She read the description under the picture and she learned that king Jaehaerys was particularly fond of that position because it gave his beloved queen the ultimate pleasure. On the next page she saw a modern photograph mimicking the painting.

Seven hells ! Were people really doing those things ? Were men really so willing to give ? Why weren't guys in college like king Jaehaerys ?! Was professor H'ghar ?...Arya curled her toes.

She turned another page and spotted a small card with a handwritten text in common tongue. 

Pushing the guilt aside, she began to read :

 

_Your tormenting beauty, my lovely one_

_An innocent flower, my cruel one_

_That blossoms under the hungry gaze_

_A goddess born to be worshiped_

_A slave bent to your will_

_My heart, my mind, my sex_

 

Arya sighed. It was...it was the true thing ! She didn't expect love could be so passionate and shameless yet touching and tender.

She heard the barely audible sound of the footsteps in the hall and she knew it was him. Professor H'ghar always walked so quietly.

Arya shut the book quickly and stood by the desk taking, she hoped, a casual pose.

The door opened and professor H'ghar stepped in with his motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He smirked without even looking at her.

 

'Did you just search through my things, stealthy girl ?'

 

He put his helmet on the sofa then shrugged his leather jacket off and tossed it on the coat rack.

 

'Of course not !' She lied. 'Professor H'ghar, I would never do that !'

 

Jaqen H'ghar walked towards Arya and stood next to her leaning against the desk. He was younger than other professors and beyond handsome with his windswept red hair and quirky mouth. Arya could smell the scent of autumn air, smoke and leaves, mixed with his cologne, ginger and cloves. Good smells.

He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

 

'What brings you here, Arya ?'

 

Arya relaxed, grateful she could change the subject.

 

'I came to ask about my essay. Did you read it ?'

 

'Lovely girl.' He started softly, his voice was warm like melted chocolate. 'All students will be informed about their grades.' He flashed a disarming smile. 'When the day comes.'

 

'But...'

 

'A man has said.' He cut her off firmly.

 

Classic professor H'ghar ! Silk and steel. Some of the students felt intimidated by him, Gendry most of all, but Arya never understood why. She liked his sweet Lorathi accent as much as the iron tones that rang in his voice at times. She enjoyed both faces of Jaqen H'ghar. And the third one she had just discovered. She bit her lip trying hard to suppress a treacherous grin.

 

'Did you like it ?' He asked casually.

 

'Liked what ?'

 

'The poem.'

 

'Which one ?' Arya blushed but smiled sweetly. 'I've read all your poems. All published ones.' She said, all innocence.

 

'Another lie !' He sighed in mock sadness. 'You must lie better.'

 

Arya chewed on her lip.  _I loved it ! I wish you spoke to me like you speak to her whoever she is. And do those things I've seen._

 

'Well ?' He pressed.

 

'Yes.' She answered honestly this time. 'Is it about your wife ?'

 

Arya wondered what kind of a woman affected Jaqen H'ghar like this.

 

'My wife and I are happily divorced.'

 

'Oh. I'm sorry.' Three lies in a row. She was on fire !

 

His mouth quirked with amusement as if he saw through her lie. Again.

 

'I am not.'

 

'Then who is it about ?'

 

 _Who is this innocent cruel flower you dream to worship ?_ Oh, those words alone made her feel like, like... She didn't know like what.

 

'Is this the sort of question you ask your teacher ?'

 

'You started it !'

 

'Fair enough !' He chuckled. 'It's about someone else entirely.'

 

Arya understood professor H'ghar was bent on keeping his secret to himself.

 

'She is very lucky.' She prompted.

 

A gleam of interest sparked in his eyes.

 

'You think ?'

 

She could swear she heard something new in his deep voice but she couldn't explain what it was.

 

'She must be !' She assured. 'To receive such a beautiful gift ! I would like to write poems like this one someday.'

 

'You are a beautiful poem yourself, Arya.' He murmured, his gaze pierced her with its intensity. He walked around her and took a seat behind the desk. A whiff of ginger and cloves lingered in the air.

 

Arya turned around to look at him.

 

'I'm a what ?!'

 

She had been called many names by him, a greedy girl and evil cat among others, but never a poem.

 

Jaqen H'ghar tapped his fingers on the cover of the book which Arya was now dying to inspect further. She was sure the book held more of his secrets and she wanted to steal them all, one by one. And she had a sneaking suspicion professor H'ghar knew about it.

He opened one of the drawers in his desk, the third from the top on the left, Arya noted. He put the book inside then he ostentatiously locked the drawer and tucked the key into his pocket.

 

'Go now, girl.' He said, opening his laptop. 'A man has duties.' When she didn't make a move to leave he repeated firmly. 'A man has said.' 

 


End file.
